Poetry Treasures – ‘‘God Is Good. It Is a Beautiful Night’’ by Wallace Stevens (1879-1955) Look round, brown moon, brown bird, as you rise to fly, look round at the head and zither on the ground. Look round you as you start to rise, brown moon, at the book and shoe, the rotted rose at the door. This was the place to which you came last night, flew close to, flew without rising away. Now, again, in your light the head is speaking. It reads the book. It becomes a scholar again, seeking celestial rendezvous, picking thin music on the rustiest string, squeezing the reddest fragrance from the stump of summer. The reddest fragrance falls from your fiery wings. The song of the great space of your age pierces the fresh night.
Posted on: Thu, 02 Oct 2014 08:19:32 +0000
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